


Interlude

by oneshycrow



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friendship/Love, Gift Exchange, Gift Fic, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Mild Smut, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-19 02:53:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29619483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneshycrow/pseuds/oneshycrow
Summary: Benny is up to something, something big, and Swank can feel that change is coming as clear as the desert’s wind on his skin.
Relationships: Benny (Fallout)/Swank (Fallout), Benny/Swank (Fallout)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Interlude

**Author's Note:**

  * For [catboyrights](https://archiveofourown.org/users/catboyrights/gifts).



> This fic takes place after 'All Roads' and the beginning cutscene of the game. It's what I imagine could happen when Benny returns to New Vegas after dealing with the Courier for the first time.
> 
> (If you haven't read 'All Road's I definitely recommend it! It's a short, official comic about what takes place with Benny right before the beginning of the game. There are a few references in this fic to that.)

_“You want to go back to the old ways, there’s the door. Go on, see the world outside Vegas in all its glory.”_

Swank hasn’t stopped thinking about what Benny said before he left a week ago. It was harsh, a threat almost, and directed at him it hurt like hell. Benny’s temper has always been vicious, and their Chairmen identity didn’t quell that; it just draped a velvet curtain over the sharp edge of his boss’s demeanor. He’s more than willing to brush it off as one of his outbursts.

Benny had been more irritable than usual, and his risk-taking behavior was becoming almost problematic – as shown by how he had him handle the issue with the singer. It seems to Swank like he’s losing his cool, and that only happens when there’s power at stake. Just like it had years before when he took on Bingo. 

Benny is up to something, something big, and Swank can feel that change is coming as clear as the desert’s wind on his skin.

Of course he would never leave like Benny suggested, not even for a chance to live his old life again. He’s loyal to a fault, at least he likes to think so, and the Boot Riders - the Chairmen - are his family. He tries to keep convincing himself that. No matter what Benny does, he will stay. He will _stay_.

“Swank, boss is coming back soon,” another Chairman brings him out of his thoughts, and he looks up from his pile of forgotten paperwork. “Says he wants you to meet him in his suite.” Swank just sighs and nods, getting up and heading to the elevators with a renewed sense of anxiety settling deep in his chest.

\---

“There’s the big cat! Was beginning to wonder if you’d ever swing back home,” Swank says with a smile from his perch on the barstool as Benny struts into the room. He downs the rest of his shot and slams it on the bar before standing up, his arms spread wide in welcome.

“Swank, pal, it’s good to be back,” Benny says and gives the other man a friendly clap on the back before beginning to loosen his tie. Swank can’t help but notice the dust and grime on his checkered suit and the exhaustion in his voice. He walks over to the other man and swats him away from his tie, pushing a cold glass of whiskey into his hand instead.

“On the rocks, just how you like it,” Swank says, voice gentle, and reaches up to finish removing Benny’s tie for him. Benny takes a long drink then sets the glass aside on the end table. Swank will have to remember to chastise him for not using a coaster - all that talk about being civilized now and the man can’t even remember a few basic manners. All he can do now is smile and shake his head as he takes Benny’s suit jacket and hangs it up in the nearby closet.

“Thanks. You’re a real ring-a-ding sidekick, you know that?” Benny shoots him a dazzling, twenty-karat grin, but his eyes are all mischief. Swank just shakes his head, wrapping his arm around the other man’s shoulders. 

“Sidekick, huh? You wound me,” he laughs and leads Benny back over to the bar to pour them another round. “You better have brought me back a souvenir.”

"Unless you want some of the dirt in my pockets, I'm afraid you're out of luck, my friend," Benny says with a snicker and ruffles Swank's hair. "The good stuff comes later."

\---

Once Benny is settled, they relax in the living room, sitting opposite of each other and continuing to share drinks. Swank can’t help as his foot taps on the floor, his eyes trained on the other man. He doesn’t know if he was summoned here to talk business or simply because Benny missed him. Either way is fine with him, but he’s hoping for the latter. His skin is hot and prickling with anticipation at the thought of having the other man to himself again. He waits for him to break the silence.

“Big things are comin’ together, Swank,” Benny says as he lights a cigarette held between his lips. The flame flickers only for a moment and catches the deep brown of Benny’s eyes, turning his intense gaze almost gold. Swank sucks in a sharp breath and sits a little taller.

“That’s what you keep on saying, boss,” Swank begins, a nervous chuckle escaping him, “but you haven’t exactly let me in on what these _big things_ are.” Benny leans back against the couch cushions, puffing rings of smoke into the air as he seems to ponder something.

“A good player keeps his cards close to his chest,” Benny says with a smirk and crosses his legs at the knee, “you should know that by now.” Swank furrows his brow and just scoffs, his heart twisting in his chest despite himself.

“So, you don’t trust me,” Swank says bitterly. It’s meant to be a question, but it comes out as more of a statement. The look on Benny’s face is one of regret and Swank relishes the glimpse he’s allowed of the other man’s emotions before the nonchalant mask is put in place once more. He puts his cigarette out – using the ash tray instead of the floor this time, much to Swank’s surprise. 

“I trust you with my life, Swank.” Benny’s voice is soft, almost a whisper, and there’s a crack of want, of _need_ , in it. His face is serious, his brown eyes focusing so intently on Swank’s that he feels like he’s on fire. It feels like a confession, almost, and Swank’s heart is singing.

They stay like that for a moment, the tension in the air between them so thick it’s almost palpable. Swank swallows the dryness in his throat, and he can see Benny’s fingers twitching against the arm of the couch.

Swank decides to break the silence, his breath coming out in stutters and his chest tight with feeling. “Good,” he breathes.

Benny pushes off the couch and is on him in a second, all warm lips and sharp teeth when they kiss. His hands are fisted so tight in Swank’s shirt that he knows it’s going to wrinkle. It’s not the first time they’ve taken comfort in each other’s embrace – they’ve been close since they were young and inseparable in the Boot Riders; before politics, greed, and responsibility pulled them further and further apart. All Swank can do is wrap his arms around the other man as Benny presses him down against the couch and lavishes him with attention.

They’re rough for a few moments, almost wrestling as they bite at each other’s lips and tug their bodies closer. Their eager grins and boyish laughter are echoes of a time long gone. The taste of whiskey and smoke is passed between them and Swank savors it. They part, breaths mingling, and Swank gives Benny a lascivious smile.

“Gone for a damn week - you could’ve made people worry.” Swank holds back the fact that he _was_ worrying the whole time. “You’re a fink, Benny, you know that?” he scolds, his gaze hardening and his hands teasing under the hem of Benny’s now untucked dress shirt.

Benny’s eyes are dark with want and he strokes Swank’s stubbled chin with his thumb. He presses his lips together and leans back, looking down at the other man from where he’s straddling his hips. “I know,” he whispers, his voice distant.

Their clothes are shed, and they eventually make their way to the bedroom. The night is a heartfelt reunion and Swank uses his hands, his lips, his teeth, and his tongue to tell Benny everything he can’t express in any other way. Benny knows how to caress the parts of his body that make him laugh, the parts that make him groan, and the parts that make him beg for more. When he has the other man alone and in his embrace there is no boss, no plan, no Vegas – only them. Making love to Benny is like making love to another man’s ghost, one that Swank desperately misses.

Benny’s skin is marred with scars from their previous life. He hides them under their new clothes like he’s ashamed, but Swank can’t help but trace them with his fingers and lips in reverence. If he closes his eyes, he can imagine he’s mapping out the canyons in the desert. When he licks a hot line along the column of the other man’s throat, he can almost taste the cool sweetness of barrel cactus fruit in his cologne. When Benny takes him whole into his wet mouth, the pleasure is almost scorching – almost enough to burn away all his doubts. When he flips Benny over, his slim hips cradled between his hands, and presses into the other man, the sounds he’s able to pull from his lips are almost enough to make him think that they’ll be alright.

They finish together and Swank swears it makes him see stars. Maybe he’s just had too much to drink, or maybe he’s starting to lose it, but as they hold each other close in the afterglow, tangled up in the sheets, he thinks can almost feel the warmth of a campfire nearby. If he closes his eyes, he imagines can hear the soft, romantic crooning of coyotes in the distance.

Benny’s warm hand on his cheek snaps him out of it and he’s anchored back to reality. They’re in the Tops Casino, in Benny’s bed. It’s dark and dusty and the moon, once his dearest friend, that he can feel is high in the sky is hidden away above layers and layers of concrete. His only comfort here is Benny, and he thinks he might fight tooth and nail to keep him.

“You’ll be the first to know about my plan,” Benny whispers against his lips. Sleep is heavy in his voice and it makes Swank smile – the other man never could stay awake after sex. “It’s just not ready yet.”

Swank just nods and kisses the other man again, and again, and again. He holds Benny as he drifts off to sleep and continues holding him long after, his thoughts racing. The room is dark and quiet, save for the occasional creak of the ancient building and the soft sound of music drifting up from the casino floor.

He strokes Benny’s hair and traces the tribal tattoos along his back and arms, his eyes growing heavy. The only things in the room he can see are the outlines of the few dressers and the door on the far wall – the one that Benny says has always been locked. The one he says no one has been in. The one he says has no key. He keeps his eyes trained on that door. His body, heavy from exhaustion and stress, relaxes into the softness of the bed and the warmth of the man next to him. The last thing he sees before he lets unconsciousness take him is a strange flash of light filter from under the crack of that door.


End file.
